


Butterflies Out of Reach (Discontinued Version)

by 2amEuphoria



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, How do I even AO3?, I haven’t written fanfic in years, Originally Posted on Tumblr, WHELP (I mean whump) HERE WE GO, sorry for the angst tornado, trigger warning: child abduction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 11:51:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2amEuphoria/pseuds/2amEuphoria
Summary: “Boogeymen don’t come after kids like you, not when they see that their parents are cops. The bad guys are scared of the good guys.”Her mind strangled itself each time she remembered this. What a “new mom” thing to say. What an “oblivious cop” thing to say. What a “new cop mom who needed a reality kick to the jaw” thing to say. She’d spend the rest of her life wishing could take that back.CW: Child abduction, grief and loss, some language
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. 1.

-49 Hours Gone-

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

She recounts the 5 worst nights of her life, but already knows that tonight, running alone in the forest, is the worst.

She never realized that wet mud makes a sound similar to that of a suction cup until she heard the noises it made against her shoes as she ran. Never realized how even in the dead of night, and with only a Dollar Store flashlight to guide her, she could still see so many bugs flying around her face. Never realized how the sounds-or lack thereof-in the clearing made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up more than the John Carpenter movies her brother forced her to watch when they were kids.

Dani was a proud New York City girl. She listened to the musings of others who claimed they “didn’t want to live and die on the same corner of the earth they grew up on” with one ear, and let it drift out the other. The history, culture, and personalities changed with each neighborhood she found herself in. That, to her, felt like she was moving to a different corner of the earth each time she turned a street corner. But her pride didn’t mean she’d never left NYC- she’d been to Long Island once or twice, and to the Adirondacks a handful of times with her mother and siblings. Supposedly had been to Connecticut and Vermont too, though she knew this only because her grandmother recalled those trips, ones that Dani didn’t remember. 

___

One of her favorite stories to tell her coworkers (and Malcolm) was the last time she went up into the mountains with her family. Four year old Dani was so worried at the thought of a bear sneaking up on their campsite that she screamed and cried all night. Well, almost all night, that is, until her mother finally packed them all up at 2am and drove back to the city. They made it home sometime after 7am, scaring their father, who’d stayed behind and didn’t expect them home for another day. Dani’s older brother proudly explained “Mama took us home early because Dani was so afraid of bears that she screamed really, really loud, so we almost got eaten by one. So we left. Can I watch TV with breakfast?”  
___

The fear of the unknown drove Dani out of the forest as a child. And now, decades later, it was a similar fear that made her simultaneously terrified and emboldened to keep going. This time she not only feared the unknown of the forest, but also feared the unknown of what might be happening to her daughter out here as well. 

7 hours ago, they received a call at the station from a New Hampshire police officer, who told them about a trucker who spotted a young girl with drenched curly hair along the side of Route 112, in an area known as the Kancamagnus highway. She was standing next to a boy with blonde hair, who looked older and unrelated to her, and both stood next to an adult who was grabbing something out of a trunk of a car. The trucker who called in was also a hunter, and claimed that he decided to call the police because these children stood frozen in fear with their eyes on the adult, like “a deer staring in the direction of a gun.” 

Gil had immediately tried to dismiss the trucker’s claims, stating that he couldn’t have gathered that kind of information even if he was going 20 mph and purposely looking at these children instead of the road. But after hearing of the way the trucker described these two young children looking at an adult in fear, as if they were this person’s prey, her stomach sank into her gut and she knew. She excused herself to the bathroom while Malcolm, Gil and JT debated the trucker’s reliability, and snuck out the back door of the station. She came home to her and Malcolm’s apartment, packed a bag that was more suitable for an overnight at a motel than a camping trip, and set her sights-and her GPS-on New Hampshire.

And now here she was, running through a clearing deep in the woods surrounding the highway, her adrenaline sustaining her after that cup of convenience store coffee had finally worn off. Chasing two sets of footprints along the tire marks on the ground, one of which belonged to a child small enough to be her daughter’s, the other belonging to what her anxious thoughts believed to be that of the young boy the trucker had seen. No sets of adult footprints. Good, Dani thought, good thinking. Run far away from that bastard. Someone’ll get them later.

Her flashlight’s beams showed her that she was almost halfway through the clearing, and after that she’d need to enter the woods. Her heart hitched at this realization, and she felt a twinge of that childhood fear of the forest resurface, so she tried to bury it under thoughts of her daughter being out there. If Dani was scared, she had no doubt that her four-year-old would be frightened too. And unlike four-year-old Dani, scared out in the woods during a camping trip, her little girl couldn’t immediately seek comfort in her mother.  
She cussed under her breath at the sinking mud beneath her feet, and tried to run faster. 

Moments later, though, Dani cussed at herself for running quicker, because the footprints disappeared. Initially she wondered if she’d begun stepping in them, becoming careless in her attempt to speed up. Ten steps backward and ten steps forward, however, discredited that idea. The footprints dropped from two sets to one-those of what was likely the older child-about 6 steps behind (Dani had counted and re-counted repeatedly), and then took a sharp turn off the tire track path and into the tall grass. 

Her flashlight, its glow dancing from the shaking of her hand, showed another path where the grass had been trampled, leading up a small hill and into the thickness of the dark woods.

The beams of the flashlight shook even harder. Dani grabbed her trembling hand, realizing she had instinctively done what Malcolm did whenever his psychogenic tremor plagued him. Her breaths, shallow from the effort of running, turned into wheezes as she started to hyperventilate. Her whole body shook as she folded in on herself like a lawn chair, nearly crouching against the earth. 

Her daughter was missing. She was out in the forest, ALONE, and she hadn’t told Malcolm. Her daughter was missing. Her phone battery was nearly dead from trying to use the GPS while wandering off the road into the forest (“bad idea, idiot,” she thinks to herself). Her daughter was missing.

Her daughter was missing. 

“A-Alea,” Dani wheezed. Just saying her name out loud was enough to pull her from confusion into a certain panic. 

“Alea!”

____________

As the patrol car glided along the curves of Route 112, Malcolm thinks of Maura Murray.

The 21-year-old UMass Amherst nursing student wrote to her professors that she was taking time off from school due to the death of a family member, packed up half her belongings into her worn-down car, and headed north to a destination unknown. Later that same night she would get into a car accident, and after declining help from a bus driver who had noticed her situation, she disappeared into the woods, never to be seen or heard from again.

He closes his eyes, and remembers how he had discussed her case with Dani years ago.  
___

One of their favorite down-time activities involved looking up old cold and controversial cases and sharing their perspectives on what happened: her coming from the perspective of a cop, his from that of a profiler. Malcolm believed that she had somehow been murdered, her body hidden initially beneath the February snow and eventually by time. Dani, who was typically the realist during these conversations, echoed a theory proposed by an author who covered the case: Murray willingly left with someone else, perhaps to start a new life after a run-in with the law during her junior year. 

“She was a runner in college, right?” Dani had called to him from her usual spot on the couch. “Sometimes people run for sport, and sometimes they run from their pasts.”

“True,” he had mumbled in response. Dani laughed about how she was thinking with his imagination and symbolism for once, while he’d sided on the idea of it being an open-and-shut case.

“Well…moving on,” Malcolm huffed from the kitchen; out of sight Dani giggled, knowing she’d stumped him at his own game. “What about Casey Anthony?”

“Malcolm,” Dani barked back, her voice stern. He saw his wife’s head perk up from the couch, her eyes glaring daggers in his direction. “Gross. That’s in poor taste, considering everything we have now.”

She’d been using this tone since she became pregnant 3 months earlier. Normally there was a hint of teasing in her voice when she chastised him, but not so much anymore. Part of him wondered if it was hormones making her more quick to anger; part of him wondered if she’d picked up on the tone his mother used with him when she was stern and was testing it out, either for their soon-to-be daughter or him (or both). 

He left his spot at the island and treaded over to her, somewhat cautious in his steps. “I’m sorry, honey. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He leaned over the back of the couch to where she lay sprawled out under a blanket, her hands on her growing stomach.

“Sure you are,” Dani muttered, leaning up to kiss him. She reached back and pulled one of his hands off the couch to rest it on top of the knit quilt and the life they’d created just underneath it. Malcolm smiled against her lips, and she did the same.

-“Bright-“

His blue eyes snapped back open, icecaps staring back at hazel. “I mean it!” he said, pulling away and glancing towards the kitchen. Her grilled cheese was nearly finished, judging by the sizzling it made on the stovetop. 

-“Hey, Bright-“

Dani rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh.  
___

“Bright, have you checked your phone yet? Come on. I thought you didn’t sleep.” JT shoved Malcolm’s arm in annoyance. Malcolm returned from his reverie, noticing JT and Gil staring at him in concern; from the rearview mirror, he could also see the New Hampshire cop who was driving giving him a weary look as well.

“Um, no….No, nothing. As in nothing, she’s sent me nothing. Look,” he stammered, and flashed his lock screen, devoid of notifications, at the officers around him.

JT sinks back against his seat with a huff. Gil sighs. The cop flicks his eyes back onto the road.

“You’re certainly right though, kid, she’s gotta be out here.” Gil had pulled down the passenger rearview mirror to make eye contact with him. His eyes were full of concern.

When Malcolm and the others noticed Dani was no longer at the station earlier that afternoon, Malcolm had raced home to search for her. She was nowhere to be found, but judging by the state of her belongings strewn about the room, Malcolm could tell she had a hunch, and no one was going to stop her from following through on it. He had phoned Gil to tell the senior detective to call the New Hampshire state police immediately, and prepare for a long drive.

They were now driving along Route 112, hoping that they’d spot her car parked along a breakdown lane. Malcolm felt that deep down, Dani would know well enough to leave clues as to where she was, and wouldn’t completely conceal her location. Yet he had no idea what he or the team would do if they never found her car. 

He didn’t want to think about it.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated against the sweaty palms of his clasped hands. He unlocked it.

I knew you wouldn’t leave me hanging, he thought when he saw who it was from.

“She just shared her location with me; I know where she is!”

____

Four miles up the road from where they were when Malcolm got a text, Dani’s car was pulled over alongside a breakdown lane. One of the New Hampshire cops balked when he noticed the car was unlocked, thinking she may have been taken; Malcolm reassured him that it was a sign. His wife, despite seeming completely organized in comparison to him, had a bad habit of leaving their car doors unlocked. Malcolm, ever the tease, started keeping tallies of every time she’d do it within a month. In the spirit of playing games with him, Dani told him that she’d learned her lesson, but that from then on she’d only leave their car doors unlocked to send him a message: “I’m aware that I’m not supposed to be doing something, but I’m doing it anyway.”

Malcolm tossed one of the New Hampshire state troopers two items, each in their own plastic bag: a satin hair tie Dani used often, and a pair of Alea’s socks. “Let’s find them.” 

Within minutes the dogs were straining against their leashes, yearning to course down the ravine that lead into the forest. Edrisa met up with the rest of the team from an accompanying patrol car, with a bag full of equipment making all sorts of clanging noises as she hastily joked over to meet them. She flashed them all an anxious smile.

She had a pair of non-latex gloves on. Malcolm swallowed hard at the sight of them. 

She put gloves on when investigating a crime scene, with the idea that she needed more than a tissue covering her hand to lift up evidence. 

She wore gloves when she thought she’d be handling bodies.


	2. 2. 50 Hours Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me while I took some extra time to finish this! I had a few humps to get over to finish this chapter, but now I feel organized again and more confident about where I want to go with this story. I needed a good bulk of this chapter to cover some of the back story of how exactly Alea disappeared before I could continue on with the search that’s going on in the woods. Expect to return there when Chapter 3 arrives- very, very soon!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

The fifth worst night of her life was, coincidentally, the night Alea was born.  
___

More specifically it had been the nighttime hours she was in labor; Alea would’ve arrive until the following early hours of the morning, at 2:14am. But every minute before then had been utter torture, because Dani, insisting she’d already been through the worst pain in her life, refused an epidural.

“I’m a cop, and I’ve been shot,” Dani told one of the nurses looking after her that night. Right near my collarbone. Spent a night in the ICU, had my shoulder messed up for months. This can’t be much worse.”

The nurse looked at Dani, and then at Malcolm (who sat in the chair next to Dani with eyes that pleaded “don’t listen to her, she has no idea what she’s in for), then back to Dani again. “If you say so, honey,” she replied, leaving the room the second she was able to.

Dani couldn’t help but laugh. “She thinks I’m crazy,” she said to Malcolm. “They all do.”

Malcolm sighed, but offered her a little smile as he reached out and rubbed her hand that was free of IVs and wires. “Maybe they have a point, you know…”

“Nah. They’ve never been shot.”

“Dani, honey, you’ve never had a baby.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

Malcolm had almost muttered “famous last words” under his breath, but decided against it.

Hours later at 10pm, Malcolm had finally managed to fall asleep but Dani was wide awake, wishing she’d pulled whatever stick was up way too high out of her ass and got that epidural after all. At least when she’d been shot she could still feel her legs and walk; now everywhere just below her ribcage felt like it was on fire. 

Out of nowhere she missed her mom, and wished she could’ve been there with her. Tears that had originally filled her eyes from all the pain she was in suddenly found the strength to spill over. 

The same nurse she’d spoken to earlier happened to come in to check on her in the same moment. Dani saw her and immediately tried to wipe any trace of her tears away.

Instead of mocking how her bravado backfired on her (which Dani, in hindsight, wouldn’t have blamed her for doing), the nurse’s face became empathetic.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay to cry.”

She came over and carefully placed Dani’s IV-covered hand between hers without pulling on any of the various wires attached. She looked to be about the same age Dani’s mother would be now; she was older, and wise, and had probably been through labor herself in addition to helping thousands of women through it, too. But she also had blonde, wavy hair like her mother did.

The nurse started to rub Dani’s shoulder as Malcolm started to wake up and Dani continued to cry. 

When Alea was born the following morning, Dani promised herself she’d do whatever she could to be there for her daughter. If she grew up and decided to have children of her own, Dani would be there to hold her hand and rub her shoulder and let her cry it out for as long as she needed to. And, most importantly, she’d tell her daughter to get an epidural.  
___

_______________________

_ -50 hours gone- _

A brisk wind rolled through the clearing, making the tall grass and Dani’s curls sway towards the direction of the woods. 

Whether she had knelt on the ground for 2 minutes or half an hour, she had no idea, but she knew she had to keep going. _ Follow the makeshift trail into the woods, Powell. Follow the evidence. _

Every so often she touched her side, feeling her gun against her hip. Her breath picked up in time with thoughts of what she’d have to face in there-nocturnal animals, maybe?

Or people?

Regardless, the gun was a last resort. She knew that if she took it out of her holster it’d feed her paranoia and cause her to get trigger-happy. And she couldn’t risk shooting…

“Stop it,” she whispered to herself under her breath. “Stop with the crazy-ass thoughts.”

“Stop, stop, stop.”

She’d made it to the edge of the clearing now, at the base of the small hill that led into the forest. The sounds of crickets and other woodland creatures echoed from its dark entrance.  
Dani swallowed hard, and took her first steps up the hill.

In the distance a twig snapped, and she gasped, nearly pulling her gun out in the process. She glanced down at her shaking hand, still on her holster, and wondered if she really should go in the woods at all by herself. She was too scared. She was alone. She was too worried about accidentally shooting-

“No-nononono,” she whispered again, “Stop thinking about it. You have to do this. You have to do this.”

She pulled her jacket over her holster, and switched holding the flashlight from her right to her left hand as well. Anything to keep that hand from reaching her gun.

In the process of swapping the flashlight to her left hand, she noticed something near her feet.

Footprints. Still only one set like she’d seen earlier, but looking closer revealed something unusual: a second, smaller set within them. As if the second set was deliberately walking in the first set’s tracks.

_ Whoever the older kid is- if it is that other one that's missing, he’s smart, _ she thought to herself. _ He must’ve told her to do this. _

Her flashlight traced the prints further into the woods. 

_ If he’s brave enough to take both of them in here to hide, I have to be brave enough to go in and find them. _

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, took a deep breath, and decided to send her GPS location to Malcolm. She originally decided against texting him when she got to the clearing, knowing it’d lead to him calling her 500 more times than he already had when she set off on this journey without him. But now her phone was about to die, and going into the woods without telling _ anyone _ wasn’t a smart idea. The last thing she needed was any fraction of the search efforts looking for her as a missing person instead of their daughter. 

_ Share location. Send. _ Her phone was at 1%, but she knew it’d shut off within minutes.

Though she wasn’t sure how, Dani’s legs brought her the rest of the way up the hill and into the darkness of the forest around her.

_______________________

Malcolm liked dogs. He did. But not when they ran at break-neck speeds down a ravine.

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t tripped yet, or how none of the K-9 handlers hadn’t yet either. He could’ve stayed further back with the rest of the team, who were probably making their way down with a lot more ease (and a lot less pine needles in their shoes), but he wanted to stay ahead with the dogs. He wanted to be at the front of the search team if they found Dani or Alea.

When the first dog made it off the ravine and into the clearing ahead, it stopped, sniffed for a few seconds, and began barking again, sprinting towards the middle of the area ahead. Malcolm veered off the ravine’s trail, trying to take a shortcut and follow closely behind, until he felt something sharp against his ankle. He cursed in pain, and reluctantly stopped to check the stinging pain in his sock. His phone’s flashlight revealed a small scratch and the fallen branch that had cut him. 

He heard Edrisa’s exhausted pants a few steps away. “Finally…you take a break…for once,” she breathed. “You good?”

“Yeah, just got scratched by a branch. Clearly I’m no Boy Scout who’s used to getting a little beat up in the woods.”

“You need a Band-Aid? One of the medics can get you something.”

“Nah, I’ll live. It’s not that bad.” Malcolm brushed himself off and stood back up, noticing Edrisa’s gloves once again. “Edrisa, um, could-could you not wear those, for now? Just because-“

“I know what it looks like,” she sighed, “but I have to. It’s just a formality. And even if there aren’t any…people to…look at, it’s best to still wear them, even just to collect evidence.”

Malcolm nodded, offering a reluctant smile. “I understand.”

“We’ll find them, Bright. They’re both a lot tougher than we give them credit for. I mean, Dani… nothing scares the crap out of that girl!” She let out a nervous laugh.

Malcolm appreciated how even in the worse of situations, Edrisa always tried to lighten the mood. “That sure is true.”

JT and Gil had caught up to them now, as well as the New Hampshire state trooper who had given them a ride. “I just heard on the radio that the dogs split up; apparently there’s a whole bunch of different leads,” the trooper said.

“Of course there are,” Malcolm sighed. This suspect was good. Edrisa put a comforting hand on his arm.

“Your choice on where you wanna go, Bright,” Gil said. “And who you wanna take with you. We’ll have a K-9 unit wait until you meet up with them.”

“JT. And-sorry, what’s your name, officer? You probably know the place better than we do, you’ll know which dog is on the right track.”

Both JT and the state trooper looked at each other, both a bit surprised that Malcolm had chosen them. “Officer Tim MacDonald,” the trooper said. “I’m not so sure, though, if I-“

“Perfect. Let’s get going, then,” Malcolm gestured to them quickly before continuing downhill.

“He’s a character,” JT muttered quickly to Officer MacDonald, “just try and keep up with him.”

“JT, Edrisa and I will meet a different unit. Stay in touch,” Gil called out. JT nodded, and the team went their separate ways.

_______________________

Its brown-grey coat glistening under the light of the moon, the German Shepherd had no interest in Malcolm, JT or Officer MacDonald as they jogged up to him and his handler. Instead, the canine continued to lurch forward, straining against his leash and barking in the direction of the woods.

Officer MacDonald and the handler exchanged a few words before the handler turned to face the rest of them. “Gentlemen,” he said in a Bostonian dialect that made JT sub-consciously turn up his nose-“I’m Officer Mitch O’Brien, and this is Dart. He got to smell both articles of clothing, and he’s indicating to me that he’s picked up something in the woods. Feel free to follow us, but there’s no need to keep up; I’ll tell yous guys if he found something.”

“’Yous guys,’” JT muttered under his breath to Malcolm. “Where the hell are we? And why does everyone have an Irish last name?”

“Welcome to New England, Detective Tarmel,” Officer MacDonald said, a slight smirk tracing his lips. “Are we ready?”

“Yes, thank you both. Let’s go,” Malcolm blurted out. He was tired of standing around listening to regional bickering.

Dart and Officer O’Brien took off, Malcolm jogging behind them. As he began to realize just how _ fast _ Dart and his handler actually were, he heard Officer MacDonald’s voice call out from behind. 

“I wouldn’t try to keep up with a dog, son. Mitch is good on his word, he’ll let us know if they find something.” 

Malcolm knew deep down that the man was right. Defeated, he stopped and waited for JT and Officer MacDonald to meet up with him. 

Officer MacDonald extended a hand to Malcolm, then back to JT. “Please, call me Tim,” he said. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk more at the station before we headed out.” The man’s light green eyes met Malcolm’s with sincerity, and he relaxed.

“It’s alright, man. Thanks for acting fast and getting us up here,” JT replied. “Introductions can always happen later.”

Tim and JT struck up typical “cop conversation” as Malcolm quietly walked alongside them, his eyes anxiously scanning the clearing and the woods ahead for any sign of…well, anything, really. Though he thought he could see Dart and Officer O’Brien further ahead, and hear distant barking from the other K-9 units elsewhere, the area around them felt uncomfortably silent and still. Or it seemed that way to him at least, since he knew his brain was more focused on the whereabouts of his wife and daughter.

A firm hand reached out and touched Malcolm’s shoulder, breaking him from his reverie and nearly making him jump out of his skin.

“Oh- sorry! Sorry, son. Jesus.” It was Tim, instant regret flooding his features. JT shook his head and smiled at Malcolm’s flighty reaction. 

“No, it’s okay, Tim. I’m sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I shoulda figured as much,” the officer muttered with a laugh. “Listen, I’m so sorry this is happening to ya right now. I got an 18-year-old back at home, but I know that if she went missing, my wife’d leave with a roast in the oven and let the house just go up in flames ‘til she found her.”

Malcolm smiled at that thought. “I guess I’m lucky Dani rarely cooks, then.”

Tim chuckled, a deep belly laugh that made JT raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I hate to bring this up, but how’d all this happen? We were told by your folks back in New York that you think your girl’s disappearance is connected to something goin’ on back home?”

“Well, that’s what we suspect,” JT remarked.

“And that’s what we’re afraid of,” Malcolm sighed, his eyes flicking back to the woods. They were almost at the edge of the clearing now.

“You wanna fill me in while we’re waiting for something from Mitch? Sorry, I just still don’t know much about this, and you guys seemed a little too anxious to be chatting away about it when we were in my cruiser earlier.”

Malcolm inhaled deeply through his nose and out through his mouth before he began to share everything that had happened within the last two weeks.

___

_ -May 30th, 0 hours gone- _

Fred Iglesias, 36. Disappeared April 1st; found May 3rd.

Madison Glendale, 32. Disappeared April 19th; found May 5th.

Haley Cassidy, 25. Disappeared April 23rd; found May 9th.

Brett Tisdale, 23. Disappeared May 1st; found May 12th.

Gabriel Young, 22. Disappeared May 20th; found May 22nd.

Apart from being adults who lived in New York City, these victims had very little in common. Malcolm eyes scanned the maps spread across the white boards in the conference room, trying to make the multicolored push-pins speak to him. He wanted them to tell him _ “hey, we make a weird, twisted heptagon shape that symbolizes a figure in an 18th century book” _ or _ “there’s an epicenter somewhere, between all of us, where the killer lies…Can’t you see it?” _

One map showed the residences of the victims, another the sites where their bodies were found. He scanned both of them, left to right, over and over until he felt his eyes begin to strain.

No connection. No patterns. No weird, twisted heptagon shape that symbolized a figure in an 18th century book.

“I just ran a background check on Gabriel," Dani said, stepping into the conference room to join the rest of the team. "Nothing, clean. Good kid; had just graduated from NYU this past spring, actually, with a degree in sociology.” 

From his spot at the table, Gil sighed and kneaded his tired eyes. JT resigned to looking back to his phone.

Gil finally stood up from his chair, arching his back in a long stretch. “Two run-of-the-mill stabbings. One strangled with an old telephone cord and carved up like a turkey afterwards. One shot point-blank in the head and then damn near eviscerated. Now we got a girl beaten to death with a mallet and found with stab wounds in her eyes. What the actual hell is all of this?” 

“I think he could be experimenting,” Malcolm said thoughtfully, “but what he’s trying to achieve, I can’t quite tell.”

“Now we even got Sherlock Freud stumped,” JT muttered, “we’re screwed now.” Gil shot him a look.

“I think it’s interesting that his victims are decreasing in age,” Dani offered. “Is there a reason for that, I wonder?”

“Could be,” Malcolm replied, “I wonder if he even knows this, though. They all look like they’re the same age group; I don’t think you’d know that Gabriel was a college student unless you saw him walking out of class with his backpack.”

“Or he does know this, and he’s thinking of setting his sights on even younger age groups.” Gil crossed his arms. “We need to be careful of him targeting kids, anyone under 18.”

Malcolm nodded, his back still to the rest of the group. “If that’s in fact what he’s doing, Gil, he has an interesting mindset.” 

“Elaborate, Bright.”

“You’d think that kids are an easier target,” Malcolm proposed, walking thoughtfully towards the autopsy photos of the victims on the opposite corner of the white board. “You got a puppy, or a friendly smile, or you say that you know their mom, and they instantly trust you. Not to mention they’re less than half the height and weight of the average adult male. It’s almost _ too _ easy…”

From her seat, Dani shuttered as she thought of Alea. From the distant look in her husband’s eyes as his sentence trailed off, she knew he was thinking of their daughter, too.

Malcolm snapped himself back to reality. “But this killer, no, he’s got it all backwards. To him, adults are the easy targets. Starting with adults in their 30s, then to the older range of twenty-somethings, all the way to college-age young adults… Somehow, he sees younger victims as more of a challenge.” 

“But why?” JT spoke up. “Fred Iglesias was 6’3” and 200-something pounds. Built like a tank. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a ten-foot pole. And yet he’s _ easy _ ?”

“Our killer has a flawed way of thinking, that’s for sure.” Malcolm finally turned around to face the team. “I’m going to have to think on this a little longer, but we could be onto something. And maybe be closer to stopping him as a result.”

Suddenly the conference room door flew open. One of the officers, Kerrie, panted as she met all of them with wild eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, I needed to come tell you guys real quick before you’re officially invited to come investigate. There’s a boy just reported missing in the Brooklyn area: Adam Maxwell. He’s 12. I just came back from the scene. Snatched right out of his bed, his mom thinks. She found a hunting knife in his room: no blood on it, looks like it’s never been used but I know you guys will check for prints and shit. I knew looked like the same knife you guys think was used on the victims you guys are looking at, so I had to tell you-”

“Kerrie, how long’s he been missing?” Gil asked.

“Adam usually gets himself to school in the mornings; Mom works an early shift at her job. She came home early, about 90 minutes ago, went to do his laundry when she found the knife and what looked like a struggle in his room. Sheets everywhere, place was a fucking mess. The kid put up a fight. Definitely not a runaway.”

“Thank you. We’re gonna go check it out right now then,” Gil motioned towards the team, who were already waiting for his command. “Just let your supervisor know so he doesn’t have to tell us twice.”

______

They were through the front door of the Maxwell home within 30 minutes. Kerrie was right; it was the same type of hunting knife used on their previous victims, though this one had no blood on it. When dusted for fingerprints, they found that the knife had never been touched by a naked hand, though Malcolm theorized that their killer could’ve been wearing gloves. 

Dani interviewed Mrs. Maxwell for a few minutes, scrambling to write down the mother’s distraught thoughts. “He’s 12, he’s got blonde hair and freckles, there’s one that’s kind of big on the side of his left cheek near his eye- H-he’s the sweetest boy, an-and yet I’m so p-proud to see that he was fighting, he- he’s a brave boy, I tell you- He-he, he, oh no, he’s my baby, my baby’s gone! My _ baby! _ ”

Dani caught her before she crumbled to the ground. The woman let out a wail of anguish and dread that made Dani shake as she started to rub her back. In that moment she couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to have Alea missing; she’d be beside herself too, the same as this poor mother.

______

Later that evening, around 4:30, Dani picked up Alea from Jessica’s home. She listened to the 4-year-old ramble on and on in her car seat: “Nana took me to the ZOO today! The ZOO! And I saw a powah bear, Momma, a _ big _ one!”

Malcolm called while they were on their way home, so he got a full recollection of Alea’s day too via the car’s Bluetooth. He then told them both that was going to be staying late at the precinct tonight; he’d be home past Alea’s bedtime, but “not too, too late. I’ll kiss you both goodnight when I get back, alright?”

Dani and Alea were home just after 5- about 5:04, Dani would later recall, having seen the time on the microwave’s clock as she walked in. She made Alea dinner-mac ‘n’ cheese, with “not so much cheese, Momma,”-got her showered, let her watch a half hour of TV, read her a story, and tucked her into bed around 7. By about 7:25, Dani could tell from her slow, quiet breaths that her daughter was finally asleep, so she kissed her forehead and got up from her bed to turn on her night light and white noise machine. 

“I love you, Alea,” Dani whispered, closing the door gently behind her as she left.

By 7:32, Dani had turned on the shower, as well as one of the playlists on her phone. She turned the volume up loud enough to hear it over the running water, but not enough so that she couldn’t still softly hear the sound of Alea’s white noise machine from directly across the hall. 

Three songs into the playlist, “No Guidance” by Drake and Chris Brown came on. Dani didn’t care for Chris Brown, so she sang along with Drake’s parts instead.

_ “You got it, girl, you got it…Yeah, _  
_ You got it, girl, yoouuu got it…” _

At about 7:54, Dani had finished showering, styled her hair, and had gotten dressed into her pajamas. She opened the bathroom door to find Alea’s bedroom door slightly ajar, which was concerning but not unusual. Alea had probably woken up and went to lay in her and Malcolm’s bed, and was waiting for her mother to say “suhpise! I’m sweepin’ wit’ you ‘n Daddy tonight!”

“Are you being sneaky again, silly girl?” Dani called out, playfully tip-toeing towards her and Malcolm’s bed. They still hadn’t moved it from the spot where Malcolm had it years ago when he first moved in; when others asked how the couple could find any privacy when their 4-year-old had easy access to their bed, they explained that the guest room upstairs, as well as baby gates at the bottom of the staircase, sufficed if they wanted time alone.

But when Dani jumped out to surprise her daughter, Alea wasn’t there. And she wasn’t in the kitchen, or in the living room, or even upstairs in the guest bedroom (not that she could climb over the baby gate to access the stairs, anyway). When Dani went back to inspect her bedroom, she found Alea’s sheets gently pulled back, but with everything else in place: no toys moved to create a fort for her to hide in, no disturbed furniture, and no Alea, not even in her closet or under her bed. 

Dani first felt the feeling as it began rising in her chest. _ No, it’s not that, stop thinking of it, _ she told herself.

“Alea?” She called as she began to search the way her detective-and mom instincts-told her to. Under Malcolm’s desk, under couches, in child-sized vacancies on book shelves, everywhere.

The feeling in her chest was growing now, creeping up her spine. It spread out over her shoulders and then down through her arms, encompassing her hands as they began to shake with each book, pile of papers, toy or other household object tossed aside in her search. 

_ Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t you dare…_

It seeped into her vocal folds as she began to open and shut the lower cabinets in the kitchen. “A- Alea Mmm- Margaret, I swear, if you’re hiding from me, you’d better stop now…”

“Alea Marg- Margaret Bright, this is (ITALICIZE) not a joke, okay?”

“Alea, I’m s-serious…”

“A- Alea, honey, I’m getting scared…”

_ Don’t think about it, stop this right now, you’re getting way ahead of yourself… _

It festered its way up to the apex of her throat and begin to slip into her jaw, causing her lip to tremble as she opened the apartment door and flicked on the lights to the stairwell. She swallowed hard, trying to force the feeling back down when she didn’t see Alea. She wasn’t sitting on the steps like she usually did, her head resting on her knees, peering up at her mother through her doe eyes and saying “are you ready to go _ now, _ Mommy?”

But the feeling regurgitated itself back up, fighting against Dani’s bravado to sneak into her eyes as she went back and grabbed a flashlight from a drawer in the kitchen. It pooled there as she raced down the stairs and, with still no sign of her daughter, threw open the building door and looked around at the quiet, still neighborhood around her. 

_ Don’t think about it, she’s brave, she just wanted to prank- _

Mrs. Maxwell’s voice intrusively stepped into her thoughts at that moment. 

_ “he- he’s a brave boy, I tell you- He-he, he, oh no, he’s my baby, my-” _

_ Stop, Dani, stop- No, no, that’s work, that’s not Alea. Stop it- _

Part of the feeling diverged from its upward trajectory and found its way back down her spine again. It flooded her legs, causing her to shake with each step.

The flashlight’s glow scanned the entire interior of Dani’s car. And then the alleyway where she and Malcolm parked. And then a couple frightened jogging paces up and down both sides of the sidewalk near their building.

Nothing.

The feeling had made its way to her brain now. It rooted itself into Dani’s thoughts, twisting barbed wire around any shred of hope she still had that...

_ Oh no, oh no, no no no no no… ___

_ __ “He-he, he, oh no, he’s my baby, my baby’s gone! My _ baby!”_ _

_ _She went back inside, racing up the steps and back into the apartment. She threw the flashlight onto the floor, watching it roll until it parked itself underneath the sink._ _

_ _Her eyes then flicked once to her and Malcolm’s bed, and she froze._ _

_ ________ _

_ _Mere seconds later, Malcolm opened the door to their apartment to find his wife a foot away from him, in her pajamas, hair still slightly wet, locked in place and staring at their bed._ _

_ _“Dani?”_ _

_ _Her figure started to shutter. He ran up to stand in front of her, grabbing her arms. Her eyes were overflowing with tears._ _

_ _“Dani, what’s- what hap”_ _

_ _“Alea,” she managed to cough out._ _

_ _“What? What about Al-“_ _

_ _He noticed that she never met his gaze; she was still staring straight ahead at their bed._ _

_ _He craned his head to follow her eyes, when he noticed it as well._ _

_ _A hunting knife lay on top of the covers of their bed._ _

_ _Dani made a strangled choking sound before speaking again._ _

_ _“He got ** Alea!” **_ _

_ _She fell into his arms the same way Mrs. Maxwell had fallen into hers hours earlier. The wail she then let out was eerily similar, as well._ _

**Author's Note:**

> -I want to clarify that I’m writing/editing this after having a crappy week and going out for dinner/drinks with a grad school friend BECAUSE of said crappy week so I’m typing and editing with hard cider eroding my brain. My apologies. I will happily edit this if need be.  
-I looked up the approximate travel times for a random mountain in the Adirondacks to the Bronx, as well as the travel times between NYC and the Kancamagnus, but I’m not a New Yorker and have no idea what I’m doing so DON’T COME FOR ME  
-Thanks for letting me get a little side-tracked about Maura Murray. She was attending the college I’m now an alumni of, and her case has haunted me ever since I heard about it. Apparently her car is still out there somewhere along the highway, never having been towed home. I hope that her and her family can someday find peace after all these years.  
-Hopefully will have chapter 2 up soon! Thanks to all of you who read this!


End file.
